Heroes in a Half Shell
by CyborgWithGreatHair
Summary: When Stephanie comes to the guys asking an unusual favour, they can't help but turn into the heroes she needs them to be. Short fic (hopefully) just a couple of chapters. All in good fun because I couldn't get the idea out of my head.
1. Chapter 1

_After recently revisiting my childhood, I noticed some uncanny parallels between one of the shows I used to adore and the Rangemen. It lead to the idea for this story. I hope you like it._

**Chapter 1**

"I have a favour to ask," I mentioned, as I slid into the booth at the back of Pino's. Ranger, Tank, Bobby and Lester were already gathered, suitably non-alcoholic drinks set before them – they still technically had had a work day left. I'd requested this meeting four hours ago, after a frantic call from my best friend Mary Lou. She had a dilemma, and I was pretty sure Ranger and his Merry Men were the only ones who could properly solve it.

"We'll do anything," Lester assured me.

At the same time, Bobby asked warily, "What kind of favour?"

Ranger shook his head ever so slightly and gave me a look that spelled out, "Babe."

Tank was silent.

These were the typical reactions I'd expected from the group. Now I just had to convince them to help me out. Mary Lou's problem wasn't exactly their usual gig, and there was a very strong possibility that they would flat out refuse once I told them. How to spin this to appeal to their values?

I took their continued silence as a cue to continue. "Mary Lou called me this morning," I began slowly, pouring myself a glass of iced tea from the pitcher in the centre of the table. "She has a problem."

"Is she okay?" Bobby asked quickly.

"Is she in danger?" Ranger questioned, placing his hands flat on the table and meeting my gaze with his impenetrable one.

"Does she need a better lover?" Lester asked with a grin and a waggle of his eyebrows.

Tank stayed silent.

I looked at each of them in turn, taking my time to form my reply. Was it possible to answer all three questions at once? Yes, I decided, but only because they were so far from the issue. "Nothing like that," I assured them, taking a sip of my tea and cringing at the taste on my tongue. "How can you drink this stuff?"

"It's good for you, Babe," Ranger replied. A stock standard answer to anything I didn't like these days. Running, despite the intense chest pain, and shortness of breath it caused, was good for me. Leafy greens, even though they left an awful taste in my mouth, were good for me. Green, sludgy smoothies, while causing me to retch and dry heave, were good for me.

I shook my head and pushed the glass away, signalling for the waitress to bring a glass of lemonade, or coke, or beer. Anything but what was in that glass right there.

"What's Mary Lou's problem?" Tank asked, when a long enough silence had passed. He was still brooding in the corner, squashed in by both Lester and Bobby so that Ranger and I could have the opposite booth to ourselves as usual.

"Mary Lou's problem," I started, utilising my high school question answering techniques for the first time since high school. "Is a lack of ninjas."

Bobby and Lester exchanged a dubious glance. When they both eventually returned their eyes to me, they asked simultaneously, "How can we help?"

Unfortunately, their question was overpowered by the rumbling protest from the hulking man in the corner. "We're not ninjas," he informed me firmly, staring at a spot on the wall. By my guess he was probably pretending to look out the window, except there wasn't a window next to our dimly lit booth in the back of the restaurant. Just a whole lot of wall.

"Okay," I sighed, clearly one of them was going to make this harder than it needed to be. "Hear me out," I requested. "Kenny is turning ten -."

"Who's Kenny," Lester interrupted.

With an eye roll, I started again. "Mary Lou's son Kenny is turning ten. And he -."

"He wants ninjas at his birthday party?" Bobby asked, sipping his horrible, gross, good for him drink.

"What are you asking, Babe?" Ranger asked.

Tank reminded us, "We're not ninjas."

Clasping my hands together in my lap, so as not to hit any one of them – history told that I would only end up hurting myself – I took a deep breath and forged on. All of nothing. It was the only way to get through this without getting completely frustrated with them all. Probably, I should have just asked Ranger and had him drag the men into it with blackmail or whatever he used to keep them loyal. It was too late now though. "Mary Lou's son, Kenny, is turning ten. He's having a birthday party. It's a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles theme. Mary Lou can't find -."

"We're not ninjas," Tank repeated once more. "Nor are we teenagers, mutants or turtles."

I was _thiiiiiiiis_ close to attempting to wrap my scrawning hands around his gargantuan neck. "I'm not _saying_ you're ninjas, or any of the other things," I told him exasperatedly. "I'm asking you to pretend, for one afternoon, to bring joy and happiness to a bunch of ten year old kids."

Silence covered the table as the men stared at each other for long moments. I sipped on my lemonade and ordered a meatball sub while I waited. Eventually, they either came to an agreement, or a stalemate, because all four men sat back, arms crossed over their chests.

"Do we have to dress up?" Ranger asked.

At the same time, Lester questioned, "Do we get to dress up?"

I nodded. "How do you expect to convince a bunch of kids that you're teenage mutant ninja turtles looking that that?" I asked, gesturing to their identical black uniforms. "The plus side is, you'll still match," I added, grinning as the waitress set down my sub. "Well, mostly. You'll have to wear different colour masks, cos that's what they do in the show."

"I call Mikey!" Lester exclaimed, hand straight up in the air, like he was in math class and had suddenly worked out the answer to a rather complicated sum in his head. We all looked at him. "What?" he asked, lowering his hand slowly. "I was a kid once."

The guys shook their heads, ignoring Lester and I found myself stuck in Ranger's gaze once more. "Will you be dressing up?" he asked.

I sighed, like it was a hardship, and informed them, "Unfortunately, there are only four ninja turtles."

"You can have my spot," Tank said mildly.

"The ninja turtles are all guys, too," I added.

Lester shook his head, hastily swallowing a mouthful of iced tea that may have come complete with ice. "Not true," he said with the same amount of authority that Bobby usually held when talking about injuries. "In 1997 to 98 there was a live action Ninja turtles series called the next mutation that featured a female ninja turtle named Venus de Milo. Or Venus for short."

Once again, we all stared at him. I don't know about anyone else, but I was doing some quick math in my head. I knew for a fact that it was 2014 now. And that Lester was currently thirty four years old. 1997 was seventeen years ago. That would put Lester at seventeen. Hardly a child…

"1998 was the year we joined the army," Bobby pointed out.

"Yes, it was," Lester agreed, studiously avoiding his gaze.

"Were you watching ninja turtles when you were eighteen years old?" Bobby asked.

Lester let out a noise, clearly forced. "Of course not," he assured us. "I just read about the series…"

"I don't think admitting to looking up Ninja Turtles shows more recently is going to help the guys perception of you," I informed him helpfully."

"They might be willing to sweep it under the rug if I told them that the ninja turtles had an incredibly hot female reporter that they hung out with," Lester retorted. "April O'Neil."

Ranger shook his head, the movement so slight that I could almost pretend it didn't happen. But then, of course, he opened his mouth. "Your offhand knowledge of this is disturbing," he said quietly. Then he turned to me once more, clarifying, "You want us to dress up like turtles and pretend to be ninjas?"

I nodded quickly. "It would really mean a lot to Mary Lou and Kenny." I paused. "And me. I'd be eternally grateful."

"What kind of payment can we expect for this?" Tank asked.

I cast around for a number both Mary Lou and I could afford, but it wasn't a very big total, so instead I shrugged. "All the pizza you can eat?"

Lester burst out laughing. "Hahahaa! Good one, Bomber!" he enthused. "Pizza! Cos we're the ninja turtles!"

"What's he on about?" Bobby asked, looking to me, since I was apparently the one to make the joke.

"No idea," I admitted.

Lester, having sobered from his laughing fit, stared at all of _us_ for a change. "You're kidding," he said, sounding deadly seriously. "You don't get that reference?" We shook our heads. We really, really didn't. A sigh fell from his lips. "Meet at my apartment tonight, seven o'clock. If we're going to do this, you all need an education."

_Did you watch TMNT as a child? Do you watch it now? If so, who's your favourite Ninja Turtle? Also, give me your predictions for which Rangeman ends up as which Turtle :D_


	2. Chapter 2

_Thanks so much for the bodacious reviews! The response to this story is blowing my mind. Here's the next chapter._

**Chapter 2**

I'd never been to Lester's apartment before, but as I stood by the door taking it all in, I realised that it was exactly as I'd expected it to be. Messy. It was hard to reconcile the image of the hard military man who had obviously learned a lot of discipline during his years of service with the fact that he left his underwear on the floor beside the hamper. And he had ample warning that I would be coming over! I shuddered, averting my eyes to the large single bed that hugged the wall on one side of the single room apartment. It was unmade, not that it bothered me, but I caught a glimpse of a magazine I preferred not to associate with before abruptly turning my head forward and hissing air in through my teeth. If I left this apartment without a disease it would be a miracle.

"It's not that bad, Bomber," Bobby said, sidling through the door behind me. "While Lester is far less than tidy, he is at least clean."

"Tell that to the dirty underwear threatening to crawl across the room and strangle me," I replied, eyes wide. There was just no way to unsee what I'd already seen.

"Well," Bobby said, following my gaze. "That's just distasteful. Lester, you have a lady over, hide your filthy panties."

Startled, Lester turned from where he'd been fiddling with things on his coffee table and glanced around the room, as if taking it in for the first time. In the next moment he was seemingly everywhere in the room, putting things away, covering things up and straightening things. "Sorry," he said, pausing in front of me. "I got distracted."

"I'll distract my foot up your ass if I walk in to find your apartment in such a shambles again," Ranger growled, taking me by the waist and leading me to the couch.

For one, terrifying moment I thought I was going to have to sit on the furniture, but then, thankfully, Ranger pulled me down onto his lap. A glance around the room suggested that it was probably because there wouldn't be enough sitting space otherwise, but I'd like to assume he was saving me from herpes.

Once everyone was squished onto the couch – or standing, in Lester's case – Ranger made a small gesture with his hand to indicate that Lester should get on with his educating.

"Right," Lester began, lowering himself into a cross legged position on the other side of the coffee table, facing us. "These," he spread his hands out to show a group of plastic toy turtle things on the table. "Are the ninja turtles. Leonardo, the leader. Raphael, the rebel. Donatello, the brains. Aaand Mikey." He pointed at each one in turn, but when he got to Mikey, he picked the action figure up and made it do a couple of kicks and a flip. "Mikey's the best, guys."

We all rolled our eyes. Well. _I _rolled _my _eyes, and the others thought about doing the same.

"Who's the mouse?" Tank asked, pointing to the plastic rodent figure off to one side.

Bobby shook his head. "The length of the nose indicates that it's probably a rat."

"To-may-to, to-mah-to," Tank replied. "Who is he?"

"Master Splinter!" Lester informed us, excitedly. "He pretty much raised the turtles and taught them to be ninjas."

"And the thing with the helmet?" Ranger asked, pointing to the thing with the helmet on the very edge of the table.

"Uh… that's the Shredder. He's the bad guy." There was a pause of about three seconds before Lester added, "Oh! I have April O'Neil around here somewhere too!" He rummaged through a cardboard box I hadn't noticed was beside him for a few moments. "Ah, April," he said, placing the figure of a woman in a yellow jacket on the table next to the others.

I looked at the other guys on the couch with me. "Okay, just putting it out there," I mentioned. "If I have to dress up as well, I'm April O'Neil." Pause. "Unless anyone else would like to be her…"

"She's all yours, Babe."

"I'm Shredder," Tank announced, crossing his arms.

Lester and I both shook our heads. My protest was that Mary Lou had specifically asked for the Ninja Turtles. Lester's was probably a principle matter. "You can't be Shredder," I announced. "You have to be a Ninja Turtle."

Tank locked his glare on me. "Then how come you get to be a human?"

"Because I'm a girl," I replied coolly.

Bobby, attempting to be helpful, pointed out, "Lester mentioned that Venus turtle at lunchtime. You could be her."

Thankfully, it was Lester who came to my defence. "Ten year old kids aren't gonna know who Venus is, Bobby. It makes sense that Bomber is April. Someone's gotta have use of all five of their fingers, just in case we get a zipper caught or something."

"We're talking about this like it's a done thing," Ranger murmured behind me. "I don't remember actually agreeing to dress up for a kids birthday party. I'm not a clown."

I turned slightly so I could see his face and gave him the sexiest grin I could muster. "You're doing it because you love me," I told him. "And you like to see me happy. This will make me very happy. And if you play your cards right I might let you do that special thing you like so much."

"Woah," Lester and Bobby woahed.

"You know we're right here, right?" Bobby reminded us. "Can you save it for later?"

"Yeah," Lester agreed. "You're making me uncomfortable."

"Tell us more about the turtles," Ranger requested to distract Lester and Bobby from our special talk, but he dragged me further onto his lap at the same time. "What are their characteristics?"

"Okay," Lester said, rummaging in the box once more. "They each have different weapons. Leo has Katana," he laid a pair of plastic swords on the table in front of the small Leonardo toy. The size comparison was definitely not right, given that the handles of the swords were roughly the same size at the figure. "Raph has Sai." In front of the Raphael toy he set a pair of three pronged pointy things. Again, they were grossly oversized for the figurine. "Donnie has a Bo staff." He pulled a plastic stick that was meant to look like wood out of the box and laid it on the table. "And Mikey has the nunchucks." Rather than simply laying the plastic nunchucks on the table, as he had the other three weapons, Lester spun them around dramatically for a moment, before one of the handles hit him in the head and he decided to stop.

"These are for close combat," Tank pointed out. "We're not trained in close combat. We're not ninjas. We're soldiers."

Apparently having heard enough, Bobby punched Tank in the upper arm. "What we're looking at here," Bobby explained. "Is a unique opportunity to expand our skill set. Imagine how much more formidable we'd be if we had these skills under our belts."

"Uh," I uttered, feeling a little uncomfortable. "I really just need you to pretend. It's a kid's party, remember? With kids. That we don't want accidentally injured?"

"Stephanie's right," Ranger agreed. "We don't want to hurt the kids."

Lester nodded, pulling an iPad out of somewhere. "I'm on it."

I was afraid to ask, but the ever present curiosity won out. "On what, exactly?"

"I'm ordering a weapons for us to practice with so we don't accidentally chop some kid's hand off," he explained.

"Uh," I uttered again. I really didn't expect this much enthusiasm when I'd offered to ask the guys if they'd do this for Mary Lou. It was a little overwhelming. "Maybe you should just use these plastic ones?"

It was Bobby who protested now. "Steph," he said, laying a hand on my thigh. "These plastic ones are made for kids. They're not big enough."

"Then get adult sized fakes," I suggested. "Ones that won't hurt a child if he accidentally gets a hold of it."

"The kids aren't gonna get a hold of them, Babe," Ranger assured me. "We're too good for that."

"You obviously haven't met Mary Lou's kids," I returned.

Eventually, I managed to convince them that for work place health and safety reasons, they should probably practice with non-lethal versions of the weapons to start off with to avoid undue injury. Okay, so maybe Bobby helped with the convincing, but only after I appealed to his professional medical opinion. Once the two sets of weapons were ordered – one real and one fake – Lester announced that in order to fully understand the Ninja Turtle way, we had to _watch _some Ninja Turtles.

So we did.

He started us off with the very latest movie. The one where they turtles looked extremely badass. He then made us watch some of the original live-action movies. And after that, a smattering of the tv series from across the years, including the cartoon series that was still running on the kids channel. We watched them back to back, ordering pizza at some point – to get in the spirit of things, Lester assured us when Ranger protested the idea of junk food in his building – and I may have dozed off somewhere during the viewing, because the next thing I knew, I was waking up to the sound of two, large men arguing over who would be which character.

For a moment, I assumed it was Bobby and Lester, fighting over Lester's beloved Mikey, because they seemed the most likely to get into such a petty argument. But as I slowly raised myself from the dead, realising that I had been laid out on a decidedly clean sheet on the decidedly questionable couch, I realised it was Tank and Ranger.

"I should be Raphael," Ranger was saying. "I'm the rebel. I'm the most fearsome and fearless!"

"You should be Leo!" Tank countered. "The LEADER. Because, oh, look at that! You're the leader! You don't have the _strength_ to be Raphael."

Ranger shook his head. "The internet bio said that Leonardo leads by EXAMPLE, not by handing out orders. I hand out orders all the time. And right now I'm ordering you to be Leonardo. You always lead by example! The men _respect_ you."

"The men respect you too!" Tank shouted, matching the rising volume of Ranger's voice. "No one works or trains harder than you do. I deserve to be Raph!"

"On what grounds?" Ranger asked, his voice light and venomous all of a sudden.

"Because I prefer to be alone," Tank stated. "It says so right there." He jabbed at the laptop screen on the table. "That's me all over. And mastering my emotions? HELLO?! Who rammed Lester's head into a wall last week because he was chewing too loudly?"

I struggling to understand how the guys had become so passionate about this topic all of a sudden, when the subtle tshhhhhh of a can opening drew my attention to Lester and Bobby, sitting side by side on the kitchen counter, a six pack between them and a bunch of empty cans on the table in front of them.

"We were trying to decide who would be who," Lester explained unnecessarily.

"Lester and I were the obvious choices for Mikey and Donnie," Bobby added.

"And then BAM!" Lester continued. "This happened." He chugged from his can. "Raph and Leo fight all the time, so I guess its fitting. Wanna beer?"

I nodded, crossing the space to grab the can from his hands and hitch myself up onto the counter beside Bobby. "What do Raph and Leo fight about?" I asked as Bobby steadied me.

"Who's the leader," Lester replied. "Master Splinter kinda put Leo in charge, but Raph think's he'd be better at it, so he often gets huffy and goes off on his own."

"So who do you think should be Raph and Leo?" I questioned.

"Tank is definitely Raph-ier," Lester mentioned. "But Ranger always gets what he wants."

I returned my attention to the other two men. While I'd been distracted their argument had turned from merely yelling at each other to physical blows. Currently, Tank had Ranger in a head lock and appeared to be cutting off his airways.

"Woah, woah woah," I exclaimed, hopping down from the counter and hurrying over to the men. "Tank, let him go. There are better ways to settle this."

Tank didn't let Ranger go. He just stared at me with a _How? _expression.

"Scissors, Paper, Rock," I told them. "Let Ranger go. Play Scissors, Paper, Rock. First to five wins gets to pick which turtle they are."

Slowly, Tank and Ranger faced off, fists cupped in their hands at the ready.

"Scissors, Paper, Rock," they chanted as one, changing their hand symbols as they said rock. One point to Ranger. "Scissors, Paper, Rock," they chanted again. Another point to Ranger. They played twice more, Ranger winning both rounds before Tank dropped his hands.

"This isn't fair!" he roared. "He's using his ESP!"

"Ranger doesn't have ESP," I assured him, even though I'd often stated that he did.

Tank shook his head, downed the last of the beer that was on the bedside table beside him and threw the can in the vague direction of the bin on his way to the door. "Whatever," he growled. "Ranger can be whoever he wants." And with that, he disappeared out of the apartment, slamming the door behind him.

"Yep," Lester whispered to Bobby. "Tank is _definitely_ suited to Raphael."

_So, Tank and Ranger got a little out of hand just now. I wasn't planning for this chapter to end like this..._


	3. Chapter 3

_Ahhh! Gotta upload quick before I have to get back to work! Eeek! Enjoy!_

**Chapter 3**

I stared at the men, or should I say _turtles_ assembled before me, trying to figure out where to let my eyes linger. They were each clad in a slightly different shade of green lycra. Head to toe. My gaze had yet to settle anywhere, drawn to the bulges of muscles that the skin tight material exposed. My only saving grace was that the shells they also wore covered their crotches, otherwise I think I probably would have been staring open mouthed, and Ranger would have dragged me off by now. Each man held an animatronic mutant turtle head with a different coloured mask over the eyes. Lester's was orange, Bobby's, purple, Ranger's blue and Tank's Red.

Speaking of the largest man, he was looking particularly surly today.

"What's wrong, Tank?" I asked. "I thought you'd be excited that this would almost be over. Just another couple of hours and you'll never have to even hear mention of the Ninja Turtles again."

Rather than reply, Tank whipped out his weapons – two three pronged pointy things, who's name I'd forgotten promptly after being told – and examined them with a stoic expression. I turned my questioning glance to Lester instead, since he was always the most forthcoming with answers.

"Ranger and Tank have both been practicing with the Katana and Sai," he explained. "They finally agreed that Tank should be Leo a couple of days ago, but then the costumes turned up and the Leo costume wouldn't fit him. Ella ordered the Raph costume for him instead, so now he has to be Raph."

Eyeing the costumes, I figured the only difference was the size of the shell and unitard each guy was wearing. "Why not just swap shells with Ranger, then?" I suggested.

"It's not that simple, Babe," Ranger informed me. "The shells are attached to the lycra."

"Of course they are," I sighed. "Okay, well we'll just have to soldier on. How's my wig?" I fluffed the fake red hair before adjusting my banana yellow jacket.

"Perfect," Lester confirmed.

"We should get going," Bobby pointed out. "The party's supposed to start in five minutes."

I nodded and took the car keys from Ranger so he could put on the three fingered gloves to complete the look. I got them all to put their heads on before we left Ranger's apartment and piled into the elevator, making sure to stop off at the fourth floor so that the men on duty got a chance to see their superiors in ridiculous costume. We posed for a few photos in front of the elevators and I had no doubt that the pictures would be plastered all over the command centre when we got back.

Watching the four of them clamber into the green van Ranger had hired for the occasion was almost comical, Bobby knocked his head on roof while the seat belt kept sliding out of Lester's fingers. Tank sat in the very back nearest the hatch door, facing the window and giving off pissy vibes. I seriously hoped he lightened up a little before we got there. Nobody liked a moody performer. Ranger slid into the passenger seat beside me and buckled up without incident and I'd just turned the key in the ignition when Lester leaned forward, a CD in his outstretched, three fingered hand.

"Chuck this in and crank it," he requested.

I did as he said, but the loud music was almost drowned out by a bellow from the far back seat. "FOR CHRIST SAKE LESTER! IF I HAVE TO LISTEN TO THIS STUPID SONG ONE MORE TIME I WILL SHOVE YOUR HEAD UP YOUR OWN ASS!"

Startled, I turned a questioning glance toward Ranger.

"It's the old Ninja Turtles theme tune," he explained, his voice muffled by the head he wore. "Lester insisted on playing it while we were training to get us in the mood.

"Did it work?" I asked, putting the van in gear and backing out of the parking space. We now had ten minutes before Mary Lou was expecting us to turn up and it would take twelve to get there. It was time we were on the road.

"You tell me," Ranger muttered.

"That's great, Tank," Lester was saying enthusiastically in the back. "Now just channel that anger into your character and we'll be good as gold."

"Is anyone else's suit riding up on them?" Bobby asked.

A sigh escaped me before I could stop it. What had I gotten myself into? I'd given Lester authority over everything, which _always_ went to his head. Tank was in a grump because he didn't get his way, not that he'd wanted to be involved in the first place. It would be a miracle if we got through today without him threatening one of the kids. Bobby was going along amicably enough, despite his apparently perpetual wedgie. And Ranger… well, let's just say I'd had to promise a few things for after the party was over in order to keep him on the team. I really REALLY hoped Kenny appreciated everything I'd put these guys through for him.

As we turned into Mary Lou's street, I flipped a switch on the dash to send the theme tune through the external sound system we'd had Hank rig up this morning. Now the entire neighbourhood would be subjected to the song against their will. Not just Tank. I drove past the front of Mary Lou's house and continued down the street and around to the ally that ran past the back. The plan was to make our grand entrance straight into the backyard.

"Right," I said over my shoulder as I turned the corner. "Does everyone have their heads on straight? It's almost show time."

"Locked and loaded," Bobby confirmed.

"Tank, remember to be entertaining," Lester said.

In the rear view mirror I saw Tank's animatronic head turn to face Lester, it's features forming into something that vaguely resembled a frown. "When this is over I'll show you how entertaining I can be."

To my surprise, Lester's head light up in a grin. "You _DID_ do your homework!" he exclaimed enthusiastically. "That is exactly what Raph says! Oh, I'm so proud of you."

Ranger turned around in his seat then, attempting to spear Lester with his sharp glare. The effect was fairly useless with the head in the way though. "Lester, pipe down before someone knocks your head off, for real."

"Aw, come one, Ranger," Bobby said. "Give him a break! He's living out one of his childhood dreams!"

"Early adulthood dreams," I corrected, reminding everyone of the fact that he'd been watching Ninja Turtles when they all first joined the Army.

"That too," Bobby agreed.

By this point, I was pulling into the empty space at the curb directly behind Mary Lou's backyard. No sooner had the van stopped than Lester had the back door open and was performing some kind of tuck and roll out onto the sidewalk.

"Cowabunga, dudes and dudettes!" he cried, springing up onto his feet before he ran into the fence that separated himself from the children that had crowded around. They were all, I noticed, in various degrees of turtle costumes, and fan clothing. Some with the tin roast pan shells, other with the store bought costumes, and still more in licensed t-shirts with strips of colour cloth turned into masks. Most were blue or red for Leonard and Raphael, with a bunch of orange for Michelangelo and a handful of purple for Donatello. "I hear it's some little dude's birthday," Lester continued, hopping the fence with ease while Ranger, Bobby and Tank exited the vehicle. I shut the music off and grabbed the video camera from the glove box before following them out.

Lester lead the kids in singing a comical version of the Happy Birthday song, alluding to the fact that Kenny smelled looked like a Kraang brain (whatever that was) and smelled like one too. Bobby got them all to back up a little so they could put on a display of the ninja moves they'd learned especially for the occasion and I was delighted to hear the whoops and cheers from the kids.

Watching Lester bounce around and flip like a gymnast, I wondered how he'd never shown the ability before. It obviously wasn't the kind of thing you mastered in a week, which was all the time they'd had to prepare. Bobby, Tank and Ranger did some kicking and swinging of their weapons while they called out some iconic catch phrases from the show. And then there was an awkward moment.

Having just landed from one of his jumps, Lester was tossing around his nun chucks enthusiastically, launching one in the air and sticking his hand out to catch it, but it didn't land where he was expecting. Instead of returning almost gracefully to his hand like he'd apparently practiced, the nun chucks came down with a heavy thunk, connecting with his upturned forehead. In the next second Lester was flat on his back on the ground.

The kids cheered, unaware that this was not part of the act and Bobby leaned over him, using the end of his staff to knock on the head. "Mikey, you dead?" Bobby asked.

"Dude," Lester uttered, sitting up and shaking his head with exaggerated movements.

"He's okay, folks!" Bobby called out.

The kids whooped again as Lester got to his feet and I moved in for a close up and to pan the crowd. "Alright, kids! It's photo time!" I called, knowing that a) the kids would want to have a picture to remember the day, and b) it would annoy the hell out of Tank to have the children so close to him. Tank didn't respond well to persons under four feet. He said it was because he just couldn't relate to kids, but I knew it was because he was scared he'd accidentally break them.

Arguments started up all around me as the boys tried to get in for their picture first. It only took one kid raising a fist to another for Mary Lou to step up to the plate with her Mom Voice on. "You'll all get your turn!" she yelled, surprising me with the power she exuded. She'd always been the quiet one in high school. "EVERYONE will be crowding in for a group shot first. Then we'll cycle through the individual shots. You WILL make one line. If you punch, kick, bite, slap, or otherwise lay hand or other body part on another person you will go STRAIGHT to the back of the line."

"Woah," I muttered, backing up so I was stood beside her while the kids gathered around the Ninja Turtles and Lenny moved in with his camera to start taking photos. "Can you teach me that?"

Mary Lou shrugged, crossing her arms over her chest nonchalantly. "It's a mom thing," she informed me. "You'll learn it when you get fed up with the fighting and ignorance."

"Right," I nodded, silently acknowledging the likelihood, or lack thereof, of me getting to such a point in my life.

"I have to admit," she mentioned. "They've done a fantastic job. What did you have to promise them to get them to agree to do this for me?"

Unbidden, a chuckle escaped my throat. "A bunch of different things," I explained. "Ranger gets uninterrupted bedroom time, if you know what I mean." She let out a moan to show that she knew _exactly_ what I meant. "Bobby gets a pizza lunch on me. Lester asked for no recompense – this is pretty much his lifelong dream. And Tank…. Well, we're still negotiating."

"Tank is the big one, right?" she asked. "The one dressed as Raph?"

"Yeah," I confirmed. "He wasn't exactly thrilled to be dressing up for kids' party."

"Good thing he's got the head on, then," she pointed out.

"Tell me about it," I agreed. "It doesn't stop the laser glares from reaching me though. I have a feeling I'll be covering his monitor duty for at least a month before he'll be happy."

Mary Lou wrapped her arm around my shoulders in consolation. "That's rough," she said. "But I _really_ appreciate it. I've got a case of beer in the house for the guys to say thanks."

We sat at the outdoor setting while the kids started filing through to get their individual and small group photos, and I eyed the cake located at the other end of the table. Mary Lou, being the great friend she was, knew that I would be craving the cake and had prepared spare just for me. Individual sized, of course. I'm not a complete guts. I was half way through my cake when one of the phones the guys had had me pocket, since they didn't have their own, started ringing. I pulled it out of my jacket and double checked the sticker label we'd stuck on them all before answering.

"Ranger's phone, Stephanie speaking," I greeted.

"Steph?" came Cal's frantic voice. "Where's Ranger? We've got a situation."

"He's entertaining the children," I explained. "Can it wait?"

"We've got a lead on Dobrogosz," he said. "I'm sending the details through as we speak. Think you can get the guys there?"

"Uh…" I uhhed, looking from the massive line still rimming the backyard, to the guys still in their turtle costumes, to Mary Lou, surreptitiously sneaking bites of my cake while I wasn't looking.

"Is that the bat signal?" she asked quietly. I nodded. "I got this," she assured me.

"I think we'll be on our way in a minute or two," I told Cal. "It'll be interesting though…"

Mary Lou had climbed onto the table by this point and cupped her hands around her mouth. "Listen up!" she yelled. "Unfortunately, the Ninja Turtles have to dash off to save the city at the moment, but they'll try to make it back when everything is under control. Anyone who whines about not getting a picture doesn't get cake!"

There was a collective groan and I saw all four turtle heads swivel in my direction. I held up the phone and mouthed "Bat Signal". That was all the confirmation they needed before they were racing as fast as they could toward the van. Dear lord Dobrogosz wasn't gonna know what hit him.

_There MIGHT be an epilogue... if you play your cards right. We'll see..._


End file.
